


The Five Times Peter Called Him Dad And The One Time He Meant It

by thecattydddy



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Erik is a Father, Gen, Pietro-centric, dadneto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 23:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8264440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecattydddy/pseuds/thecattydddy
Summary: Peter Maximoff has known that Erik is his dad for a while now, but knowing something and admitting something are two very different thing.
Classic Exactly What It Says on the Tin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I recognize the council has created a timeline, but given that it's a stupid-ass timeline, I've elected to ignore it.

The first time, it’d been a pretty innocent mistake. Rarely seeing him around the mansion and rarely ever having to speak with the man meant that, most of the time, when Peter referred to Erik he could do it within the safety of his own mind without people questioning why he used the term _Dad_ for the magnokinetic. Unfortunately, this also meant that no one was to stop him from just associating the name with the man straight out, his mind eventually just linking the two as if that was what he’d always been. This meant that when Erik made a random appearance one day and Peter went zooming past, he _Messed Up_ , with a capital M.

“Hey, Dad!”

The speedster’s feet skidded to a horrified stop the moment the words came out of his mouth, the world slowing down as he tried to think of a way to fix this. In what had basically been an eternity to Peter but felt like no time at all to Erik, the speedster turned on his heel, shooting finger guns at the man. “--Dio! Daddio! What’re _you_ doing here, you sly dog?”

Erik gave him a look, eyebrow raised in what could only be judgement. “I’m here to speak with Charles.”

“Oh yeah, the big ‘ole P.X. Gotcha,” Peter could feel his face heating up, still reeling from the mistake. Erik opened his mouth, as if to say something, but the speedster beat him to it.

“ _Welp--_! That was fun! Gotta go! Bye!” And he disappeared in a blur, leaving Erik standing there, a little stunned. Shaking away the confusion left in his head after that encounter, he turned to continue on his path back the way he’d come.

 

* * *

The second time, it’d been a joke, more than anything. Erik’s visits had become a pretty regular occurrence at the school and, occasionally, Charles would use the opportunity to share his long time friend’s company with some of his more favored students. He probably figured that surrounding him with all these kids would remind him of when they’d first worked together to find mutants and built themselves a neat little family when they had none. That, just maybe, Erik could find a new family here. That it would be enough to make him stay. It never worked, but at least the manipulator of metal came to visit more often these days. When Charles did plan these little get togethers, he would always invite Peter in that way that told him that he wasn’t _required_ to go, but Charles would be _very disappointed_ if he didn’t… Or in other words, he was required to go.

Sneaky bastard probably knew all about his whole family situation.

Erik was feeling particularly sociable tonight, sharing a bottle with Charles and Hank. Erik had lightly teased Hank about being too young to drink a glass with the adults, which the dorky scientist balked at. This riled a wave of questions and confusion from the students, whom Charles eventually sated with a few stories about the early days of the school.

“This is embarrassing,” Hank whined when Erik joined in with a couple stories about him, purposefully mentioning his awkward crush on a fellow, shapeshifting mutant. “Please stop.”

“Aw, don’t be such a poor sport, Hank,” Erik reached over and pinch his cheek, earning a slight growl from the man. “You were a cute kid.”

“You sound like a couple of old dads,” Ororo pointed out, slight disbelief in her voice.

“Who knew the indomitable Magneto and the all-knowing Professor X were a bunch of greying old men who carry around pictures of their babies in their wallets,” Scott smirked, earning a couple of laughs around the room.

“I do _not_ carry around pictures of _anyone_ in my wallet,” Erik objected, offended by the mere _suggestion_.

“There’s no shame in it, Erik,” Charles returned, sweetly. All eyes turned to him, wide and disbelieving.

“You don’t!” Hank objected, seeming even more horrified than he had been this whole time.

“Oh, don’t be so surprised, Hank,” Charles rolled his eyes, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He handed it off to Jean before Hank or Erik could intercept it.

“Oh my god, you two look you are about to build a deck,” Scott snickered, leaning over Jean’s shoulder to get a better view of the image tucked neatly inside his wallet pocket. If his voice caught slightly at the sight of his brother, no one said anything about it. Eventually, the picture came to rest in Peter’s hands and he stared at it a minute, his eyes taking in the scene depicted in it.

A whole group of young adults stood in a line, Erik and Charles squeezed in around them. Erik had an arm over Raven’s shoulder and the other was playfully holding Alex by the back of the neck. Hank looked somewhat exasperated to be in the picture, as if he’d been dragged there against his will, and Sean looked about ready to cause some kind of sonic wave directly at the camera. Charles stared down at the line at the small collection of people, happiness written across his features.

“This is disgustingly heartwarming, Charles, but I beg of you to dispose of it,” Erik said, once Peter finally could hand the image over to him. Charles simply plucked the wallet from his old friend’s hand and returned it to his pocket.

“Not on your life.”

“He’s just jealous that he did not think to get a picture, Professor,” Ororo insisted.

“Probably misses the good ‘ole days of having a bunch of whiny kids,” Scott added, cheekily.

“Trust me, _that_ I don’t miss,” Erik returned, a small chuckle in his words.

“I wasn’t whiny,” Hank muttered under his breath.

“Ha! I bet you were the worst!” Peter interjected, earning him snarl from the dorky doctor.

“If we’re old dads, you lot are a bunch of unruly siblings,” Charles shook his head, amused.

“If Hank’s included, that would make you like our dad too, huh Erik?” Jean mentioned, innocently enough. The laughter that broke out among the younger mutants quickly melted into the whole lot – Even Hank, evidently enough - chanting “ _Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad--!_ ”

“Alright, alright! Enough already!” Erik shouted, waving the hysterical kids and their antics away. Peter wiped a couple tears away from his eye, leaning on Scott for support as he recovered from his laughing fit. Somehow, a bunch of teenagers had took the terrorist threat Magneto and turned him into a really pouty old man.

It was, all-in-all, a fairly good way to end one’s day.

 

* * *

The third time, it was prompted by the man, himself. Erik had chosen to start staying more regularly at the school, spending nights often enough to warrant he have his own room. Several times, Charles had offered the man a job, but Erik had just as quickly turned the notion down and, sometimes, he would leave for a couple days after the offer was given, but so far he still came back every time.

Peter had just returned from one of his regular trips home to visit his mom and sisters. Poor Wendy was stuck there still, barely ever coming out of her room. He had considered bringing her back to Xavier’s school a couple times, but he at least knew that she was safe in the safety of her own home, if not a little bit lonely when he wasn’t around. Their youngest sister, Leah, wouldn’t go anywhere near her and their mother was not particularly fond of getting close to her either – Even how much she tried – which left Pietro’s visits to encompass most of Wendy’s social skills. Bringing her here, surrounding her with so many people who might not all react well to what she can do…

He’d rather risk just keeping her tucked away from everything.

Peter came speeding onto the property in through the front door, unfortunately at the same time that Erik was heading out. Lost deep in his thoughts, he hadn’t even seen the man there and they both crashed onto the ground, the breath being knocked out of the older man, who immediately groaned once he’d recovered from the daze.

“Oh. Whoops,” Peter muttered, quickly recollecting himself and pulling Erik to his feet. Dusting him off, Peter eyes the man in front of him. The biggest part about bringing Wendy to the school had always been about whether or not she had a right to meet their mutual father. Whether there was even any point to introducing them, considering Erik didn’t even _know_ , yet.

“Peter,” Erik grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. “You need to slow down in the house.”

The speedster crinkled his nose at the statement. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not,” Erik gave the boy a look which clearly portrayed how serious he was, but Peter simply raised an eyebrow at it. “If you were my son, I would have put a stop to this, already.”

“The Professor says that we’re allowed to use our mutations in the house, assuming they do not cause a danger to others,” Peter quoted, smugly.

“Your mutations just threw an old man to the ground,” Erik returned. “I’d call that an endangerment to others. Stop running in the house.”

“And apparently you think you’re _my_ old man, now.” Peter let himself smirk, amused. “Tell you what, _Dad_. I’ll stop running in the house, if… _You can catch me!_ ” And suddenly Peter was off, purposefully darting through the front foyer and sending some poor girl’s papers flying all over the place as she made an attempt to hold down her skirt. Erik grew red in the face, calling after the boy.

“ _Peter!_ ”

* * *

The fourth time, he used it as a deflection. Erik was acting as a sub these days, filling in when one of the more permanent teachers were otherwise occupied. It meant he had to be at the school more often, available when he didn’t have pressing matters of his own, just in case. By this time, the man had become close with Charles’ band of X-Men, even if there were those that still feared him because of the past. He would talk to them or invite them to sit with him and Charles while the two men bickered and sometimes – Usually in the case of Jean – he did what he could to comfort their woes. They each had a place in his heart the way that the first team of young mutants had, of course, but he couldn’t help it if he had a favorite.

And Peter… Peter was _most definitely_ his favorite.

Which was why it pained him to see the boy unnaturally quiet one afternoon, not a glimpse of him dashing around the property all day. Talking to his teachers, Erik had learned that the kid hadn’t shown up to class all day. By the time he thought to check the boy’s room, he’d almost been surprised to hear the very quiet and very distant “ _Um… Yeah?_ ” from the other side.

“Peter, it’s Erik,” the man stated, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “I’m coming in.”

It was a command, which brought a sigh to Peter’s person. He could either agree to it as if it’d been his choice to make or he could said no and then have Erik do it anyways. “Yeah, okay.”

Erik opened the door to find Peter curled up in his bed, wearing his day clothes as if he’d actually gotten up this morning, but then had decided to crawl right back into bed, not even bothering to really greet the day. “Peter… You teachers said you haven’t been to class all day.”

“Not feeling well,” Peter stated, not even bothering to make himself sound even the tiniest bit sick. Even if it wasn’t only nearly impossible for the speedster to contract ordinary illnesses, the lack of dedication to the lie is what really would have sold him against it.

“You expect me to believe you’re sick?” Erik questioned, an eyebrow raised.

“I expect you to leave me alone,” Peter answered back, simply. There was no bite or sass to the comment. It was just stated with a heavy sigh, as if he had come to accept a hard reality of life that he could do nothing to correct.

“Well, that’s not happening,” Erik returned, coming farther into the room and closing the door behind him to give the two of them a bit of privacy. He sat on the edge of the bed, swatting lightly at the other’s leg’s. “Move aside. I’m sitting here.”

Peter just moved as instructed, not even bothering to object to the intrusion on his space. From this angle, Erik could see Peter’s face, a mix of guilt and worry splattered there like one would paint on a canvas. He reached forward, brushing a few of the silvery hairs aside. The boy could probably use a haircut, soon. “Talk to me.”

Panic rose to Peter’s expression and he quickly diverted the conversation. “I know we have that whole dad joke going around, but _Jesus_. You’re not supposed to actually start acting _fatherly_.”

“Peter...”

“Should I start calling you Dad full time? Daddio? Daderoni? Dadocaly-”

“Peter, that’s enough.”

“You sure? I have plenty more.”

“I’m sure you do,” Erik answered, no loss of exasperation. “But I want to hear the reason you’re skipping class. I’d hate to have to get you in trouble with the Professor because you’re being difficult.”

Peter went quiet, again. A comforting hand settled on his shoulder. “You do not have to deal with whatever has happened alone.”

The idea of telling the man about the phone call he’d received that morning, about the fact that his twin sister had run away, was not exactly something he could bring himself to do. The burden of his sister and all her complications were his alone. “Hey, Erik?”

“Mm?”

“Piss off.”

* * *

The fifth time, Peter had said it out of anger. Ever since his sister’s disappearance, Peter had only gotten worse. The nights spent without sleep turned to nights spent without purpose and he began sneaking out when most of the school’s occupants were fast asleep. He picked back up the kleptomanic habits he’d abandoned since coming to the school. Boxes of twinkles lined the space under his bed and he would go through an entire case of them in one sitting when he was certain no one would be around to catch him in the act. Not all his heists went without capture, unfortunately. They’d slap cuffs on him and drag him back to the school where Charles would try and reason with the boy before Peter would just up and do it, again. It was maybe the six or seventh time through this when, instead of Charles or an irritated Hank, it was Erik who came to the door.

“Officer,” The man greeted him, confusion etched in his tone. For a second, Peter’s eyes widened, but in the next instant his features were leveled into a cocky sort of calm. “Is there a problem?”

“Just his usual,” the officer explained, earning an eyebrow raise from Erik. “Five-finger discount over at the grocery. Was across the street writing a ticket when I spotted him.”

“I see.” The unadulterated _venom_ in Erik’s tone startled both Peter and the officer. Sure, the speedster knew that the guy had developed a soft spot for him, but going so far as to be upset over something as minor as a couple stolen boxes of Hostess cakes was a bit much. “Come inside, Peter.”

Peter didn’t particularly feel like arguing and stepped over the threshold, into the house. The officer’s hand settled over his hip for a moment, hesitating. “You want me to uncuff him or…?”

“We’ll be fine, thank you. If there’s nothing else?”

The officer hesitated a moment, his unsure eyes darting between Erik, who looked about ready to explode, and Peter, who couldn’t have been a more perfect picture of misplaced teenage confidence. Finally he reached up for his hat and tipped it slightly in farewell. “Well, alright, then...”

“Later, George!” Peter waved after him, ignoring the hand that came to rest on his shoulder, digging into it.

George paused a moment to give Peter a sympathetic look before he started back towards his car. “Behave yourself, Son.” He didn’t get a chance to reply because suddenly the door was slammed shut forcefully enough to cause it to rattle and a hand on his upper arm dragged him through the hallways.

“Hey, uh… Erik?” Peter could feel his cockiness waning, the reaction of the magnokinetic so _different_ than what he was used to. The glare that Erik sent his way was horrifying, yes, but what really scared Peter into submission was the way the metal around them seemed to rattle as they passed by. The cuffs still hanging around his wrists made small clattering noises as they walked, bumping against the skin there as they trembled under the mere _force_ of Erik’s anger. “E- Erik? Wh- Where are we going?”

The man didn’t answer and Peter couldn’t help himself from imagining a couple of awful scenarios. After all, _Magneto_ had been a terrorist, once upon a time, and it was not hard to think of him reverting back to such ways, what with his current state. These thoughts gave way to slight relief when the familiar path to the Professor’s office became apparent. Erik would probably just toss him unceremoniously at Charles and storm off, disappointed in himself for ever even sparing Peter a second glance.

Actually, on second thought, the whole being killed by a raging ex-terrorist thing might be better.

The door flung open, slamming against the opposite walls, and both Peter and the room’s inhabitants all jumped. A quick peak inside showed Charles and Jean, both of whom seemed to be in the middle of something.

“Jean.” Erik greeted her through gritted teeth. “If you wouldn’t mind giving me a moment with the professor...”

“Of course not,” Jean instantly stood up, collecting the jacket she’d tossed onto the back of her chair and scurrying out of the room. Her eyes fell a moment on Peter, first portraying surprise and then a touch of pity before she was gone.

“Erik, You can’t just interrupt me in the middle of-- Oh.” Charles exasperated rant was interrupted when Peter was unceremoniously tossed over the threshold and the door to the room slammed shut just as hard as as quickly as it’d opened in the first place. “Hello, Peter… Officer George brought you back, again, I presume?”

“ _Again!_ ” Erik demanded, hysterically. “ _You’ve known about this?_ ”

“There is very little I don’t know about at this school, Erik,” Charles answered, simply enough. “It’s been happening for some time, now. If you would just calm down--”

“If he were _my_ responsibility, I would have boxed his ears in by now,” Erik spat back, “You’re too soft on them, Charles. Obviously whatever you’re doing _isn’t working_.”

Charles opened his mouth, as if to respond, but Peter beat him to it, a look of reproached across his features. “Yeah, well, you’re _not_ responsible for me, so why don’t you just back off?”

“Peter!” Charles’ voice rang of disapproval, but the Speedster didn’t care at this point.

“You’re already in trouble, young man, I would _not_ push your luck--” Erik hissed, head snapping from Charles to his son. For a moment, Peter could almost convince himself that the older man genuinely cared, but if that was true then where had he been Peter’s whole childhood? Where had he been when his mutation had manifested and scared him half to death? Where had he been during all the cheesy plays and first days of school and report cards?

Where was he now that his twin sister was gone?

“ _Fuck you_ , old man. You’re not in charge of me!” Peter snapped back, his expression contorting into a sort of sad rage. “You think you can just step into my life and boss me around? Who do you think you are, _my father_?”

For a moment, Peter considered telling him right then and there, but the information had become a security blanket of sorts; A small truth that he could keep him grounded even if it only caused him more trouble than good.

“Peter, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but this behavior is--” Erik began, only for Peter to return it with a barking laugh.

“You want to know what’s gotten into me?” Peter replied, the bitter, brokeness painted across his features as well as threaded through his voice. “My twin sister is somewhere out there, far away from home and alone, and I’m _here_. I’m here and I’m _completely useless to her_ , so don’t tell me-- Don’t tell _me_ that...”

The outburst had left a thick silence to fall over the room, interrupted only by the quiet sobs that Peter quickly realized were his own. The cuffs on his wrists jingled when he moved them and he sent a glare in Erik’s direction. “Take them off--”

A simple waved of his hand and the cuffs dropped to the floor. Peter considered trying to escape, his gaze darting to the door, but then Erik was suddenly in beside him, arms wrapped around the boy and chin resting on the top of his head. The action was so surprisingly _gentle_ that Peter could feel a wave of tears hit him, his fingers digging into the elder’s jacket and his face hidden in his chest.

“I-I-I can’t--”

“ _Shh._ It’s alright. Calm down, Peter.” A hand hovered over his head a moment, hesitantly, before fingers carded slowly through the speedster’s hair. “This is enough blubbering. It’s unbecoming.”

“I wish you had told me about your sister sooner, Peter,” Charles mentioned, quietly. Peter looked up, wiping snot and tears off his face with the back of his hand.

“Why?” Peter grumbled, a touch ashamed of his sudden outburst. “It’s not like you can do anything about it...”

“On the contrary, I may be able to,” Charles explained, exchanging a look with Erik. “But if I do this, you’ll have to give me your word that you’ll cease your illegal past times in town.”

“Yeah… Yeah, anything,” Peter was pushing his way out of Erik’s arms, the smallest glimmer of hope peeking through his expression. “ _Please_...”

“Very well,” Charles gave him a soft, understanding smile before he began rolling himself out of the room. “I think, then, that it’s time we went and had a word with Cerebro.”

 

* * *

“ _Wendy_ ,” Peter breathed, taking her face in his hands and placing a soft kiss to her forehead. Her hand rested on his shoulder, grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in _months_. His sister, solid and _real_ , was standing before him and he couldn’t help the mistiness that took to his eyes “ _Christ_ , Wendy… I was so worried and--”

“It’s alright, Peter,” Wendy reassured him with a sad smile. “I was perfectly safe, I just… I needed some time away.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” Peter choked out. “I wanted to go out and look for you, myself, but I didn’t even know where to start and--”

“I’m back, now,” Wendy reassured him. She glanced over his shoulder to the two men observing this reunion before her gaze turned back to him, a pointedness to her eyes. “ _Mr. Lehnsherr_ was kind enough to come get me, himself.” Leaning back enough to see her face, the twins carried out a conversation of sorts that only the two of them could understand.

_You haven’t told him, yet?_

_Hell no._

_Peter…_

_I’ve been a little preoccupied, recently…_

_He deserves to know._

_Alright, alright! I’ll tell him… Sheesh._

_Tonight._

_You are merciless, you know that?_

Peter glanced over his shoulder to see Erik standing there, his posture professional and distant, but his eyes giving way to an emotion hidden underneath. He was _happy_ for them. The speedster thought about that as he pulled Wendy in for a proper embrace, his nose buried in her hair. Charles made accommodations to get Wendy a room, welcoming them both to stay as long as they wished and, after a brief discussion about her powers, Charles offered to meet with her one-on-one to begin learning how to control them. Wendy went to bed early that night, but not without sparing one last glance in her brother’s direction.

_Tell him._

“Peter,” Erik opened his door when the speedster knocked, his confusion apparent. “I was under the impression you would be spending the evening with your sister...”

“She kicked me out. Said she wanted to sleep.” He shrugged. “Hey, uh… You got a minute?”

“Of course.” The door came open further and Peter stepped inside, looking around as Erik closed it behind them. The room was decorated simply enough, no posters lining the walls or memorabilia adorning the shelves, but it had a sort of niceness in it’s simplicity. A sort of _homey_ feeling to it. “How can I help you?”

“Thank you,” was the first thing he said, the words coming out before he knew he was even speaking. “For finding Wendy. I didn’t… I never would have… _Jesus._ ” For probably the hundredth time that same day, his eyes became wet and Peter furiously rubbed at them. Erik placed a hand on his shoulder and led the boy to the bed, sitting beside him on it.

“I’m happy to do it,” Erik replied. “Family is very important and I am glad to see yours reunited.”

Peter gave a short nod, the tears gone and replaced by a building sense of dread at what he was about to do. All this time, he’d been keeping the true nature of their relationship a secret, afraid of what his reaction might be. He’d agreed to do this because his sister had told him to – And she was right. After _everything_ Erik deserved to know – but that didn’t help his fears from manifesting into an icy grip around his heart. “Do have any, you know… Family?”

“No.” Erik’s expression grew somber, memories resurfacing inside of him that would certain have broken a lesser man. Maybe, in many ways, they had also broken him. “Any family I once had was taken from me.”

“What if… What if you still had family out there, somewhere?” Peter questioned, purposefully not looking at Erik, instead fiddling with his jacket zipper. Erik’s expression hardened, unsure if Peter had a point or was purposefully messing with him. “Like, I dunno, kids or something?”

“What are you trying to say?” Erik questioned, a hint of warning in his tone. Family was a touchy subject for the man and it would be in both their interests in Peter watched himself.

“Do you like Wendy?” Peter asked, instead.

The sudden topic change just confused Erik further. “She seems like a very special young lady. I’m sure I will come to like her more with time.”

“Do you...” Peter could feel his voice catching in his throat. “Do you like _me_?”

“Of course,” Erik answered without even a touch of hesitancy. His hand came up to run through Peter’s hair. “You are like a son to me.”

“Oh, cool that’s good,” Peter gave an awkward laugh. “’C-cuz I am.”

Erik’s hand stilled, his brow drawn together. “What?”

“’Cuz I am… Your son,” Peter squeaked, looking anywhere, but at the man. “I’m your son.”

“What do you mean…?” Erik frowned, his brain having trouble processing the information. Apparently, the time it took for the idea to settle in his mind had been too long for Peter, who was suddenly to his feet.

“You know, it’s kinda a stupid thing anyways. Not a big deal. Let’s just forget I mentioned this--” Peter rambled, already standing and ready to flee. It was by mere chance that Erik managed to reach out and catch the boy before he disappeared completely.

“Sit down,” Erik commanded, pointing back to the bed with his free hand. Peter lowered himself back down, looking nothing short of a caged animal, longing to flee. Erik slowly released his arm, bringing a hand up to cradle the side of Peter’s face. The gesture was gentle enough to assure the speedster would remain for the present moment. “Tell me, again.”

“I… I’m your son,” Peter repeated, just above a whisper. “You’re my… My… You’re my dad.”

“You are certain of this?” Erik questioned. As much as he longed for any kind of family – And _Peter_ being his son was a blessing more than most – he had to keep a touch of skepticism.

“You had a thing with my mother – Maggie Maximoff – a few years back,” Peter explained. “She said you were in love, but then… Then you went crazy and she ran away. She never told you about us. Hell, she never even told _me_ about it until after the Pentagon and then--”

“You’ve know about this since the Pentagon?” Erik’s interrupted, surprised. “Why did you never say anything until now?”

“I dunno. I was… _Scared_ , I guess,” Peter shrugged, guilt heavy on him. “I just… I didn’t know how to bring it up at first and then all of a sudden you were being all nice and shit and I didn’t… I didn’t want to lose you after I’d only just gotten you and--”

“Peter.” Erik’s thumb ran softly against the skin of Peter’s cheek and the boy finally looked at him, all his fears painted so clearly in his eyes. He was a tough kid with a good heart and an unwavering love for his family. In truth, Erik had been proud of him for a while now, but that was nothing like the pride of a father.

Because Peter was _his son_.

“Peter,” He began, again, his lips curling upward in a smile. “There is no reason for you to be scared. I am happy to call you my son – Any man would be.”

“Heh… Thanks,” Peter gave a soft chuckle, his own smiling timidly imitating the one Erik gave him. “Does this mean we’re gonna have to do gross family holidays and stuff, now?”

“Mm. Probably,” Erik snarked back, his hand moving to cup the back of Peter’s head before pulling him forward and pressing a quick kiss to the boy’s forehead. “And your sister…?”

“Yeah, she’s yours too,” Peter mumbled, a touch of embarrassment at Erik’s antics. “She’s a lot more into this stuff than I am, so if you’re gonna start going all _Dadneto_ on us, try and aim it at her.”

“Oh, I will,” Erik promised, pulling back to look his son in the face. _His son_. “But there is plenty of it to go around. I’ll be able to _go all Dadneto_ on you both, equally.”

Peter gave a groan in exasperation, but it was evident to them both that, maybe, that wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe, in the most hidden corners of Peter’s mind and his heart, he actually would kinda like it, a lot.


End file.
